


The Cruise

by radishface



Series: The Velvet Universe [1]
Category: NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), TWICE (Band), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-05-03 11:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14567739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radishface/pseuds/radishface
Summary: Dongho should have been back home in Jeju for Christmas but here he was instead, soaking in the sunshine and the colorful, peppery Singlish floating in the air. He was here as Minki’s moral support and was fully prepared to spend the week on the cruise working on his tan and developing indigestion from too much chili crab.That was the plan—until a flexy-looking twink with pale skin, bleach-blond hair and a velvet choker sauntered up to him at the bar and ruined everything.





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> For [Lillith Evans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillithEvans/pseuds/LillithEvans), the OG progenitor of Donghwi, to whom I (and all us Donghwi fans) owe a debt of fandom.

 

 

 

 

“So, what’s your tattoo about?”

“Ah, this?” Dongho rubbed at the white tiger on his arm. “It was an old nickname of mine from high school.”

“You were in a motorcycle gang or something?”

“Nothing like that,” Dongho said. “Something an old girlfriend used to call me. It stuck, I guess.”

“I see. So why’d you break up?”

“Personal reasons.”

“Never heard of a breakup for other than personal reasons.”

Dongho went quiet. Being sassed by someone from another generation was not his idea of a great time. Being squeezed for his life story ranked even lower down the list.

“It was nice meeting you, Daehwi.” Dongho drowned the rest of his virgin pina colada. “See you around.”

“Wait,” Lee Daehwi said. “I think we can help each other.”

It was a five-day cruise for singles to meet each other. It wasn’t normally the kind of place that Dongho would find himself but since Minki and him had both recently been through some traumatic life events, Minki had insisted upon this trip as a combo of therapy and revenge.

“Let my ex think we’re sleeping with each other,” Minki had said tearfully.

Dongho had his own reasons for coming on the trip. It was an expensive way to give people the impression that they were both doing fine, but in what passed for grief in Dongho’s mind it was an entirely reasonable expense. He should have been back home in Jeju for Christmas but here he was instead, soaking in the sunshine and the colorful, peppery Singlish floating in the air.

Minki’s enthusiasm for their holiday and the festive scene on board made up for his first-grade-level English, but Dongho had neither the proficiency, the enthusiasm, nor the flamboyance to communicate what he wanted. Not that he actually wanted anything. He was here as Minki’s moral support and was fully prepared to spend the week working on a tan and developing indigestion from too much chili crab.

That was the plan until a flexy-looking twink with pale skin, bleach-blond hair and a velvet choker (which, despite the heat and the sun, somehow worked) had sauntered up to him at the bar, making full eye contact all the while.

The blond pointed at the barstool next to Dongho and raised an eyebrow.

“All yours,” Dongho said. F. The kid was gorgeous.

Twenty minutes and four shots later Dongho was nursing the beginning of a vodka headache (how’d he get talked into shots?) and had spilled his entire life story to Lee Daehwi, UCLA music major, up-and-coming Instagram influencer, and sometime-DJ back in Korea for the summer. How Dongho made his living running deliveries by day and dancing at night. How the bakery he was working at—where he actually had a decent start as a baker—had just shut down. How he actually loved to sing, and wanted to find more time for it. How after a bad case of vocal cord nodules he had to have an operation and how he wasn’t sure he’d ever sing again.

As if.

Vulnerability did not come easily to Kang Dongho and given what his exes had told him over the many years, it was apparently something he needed to cultivate. Looking into Daehwi’s green eyes (colored contacts, but so subtle) there was a part of him that wanted to spill the beans to this one. Another part of him said that telling his life story to a stranger he’d never see again didn’t exactly count as raw courage. And yet another part of him that screamed that he needed to get away, _now_.

They made flirty small talk and Dongho tried to figure out why Daehwi was talking to him. And when Daehwi started asking questions about why he was here and Dongho found himself itching to leave. He trusted that Daehwi would find himself some more willing company.

Daehwi stopped him with a hand on his wrist. Surprisingly strong grip for such a small, pale kid who looked like he’d just crawled out of a vampire novel.

“Wait. You came here with that guy, right? I have to ask—are you together?”

Dongho followed Daehwi’s pointed finger to the ever-singular Choi Minki, who had donned a pink wig and a sheer button-up for the first evening of the cruise and was currently serenading a group of gawk-faced cruisegoers in Japanese.

“That’s my friend Minki. We go way back.”

Daehwi narrowed his eyes. “Tell me more about him.”

Dongho nodded in relief. So that’s what this was. Of course the kid wasn’t here to talk to the washed up, perpetual part-timer who couldn’t hold down a job.

“Minki’s great. He’s the kindest person I know, and he’s got a great sense of style. He’s a lot of fun, you’ll never be bored around him.”

“What does he do?”

“He,” Dongho pursed his lips, not sure how much to tell Daehwi. Minki kept his activities pretty private. It was only through sheer coincidence that Dongho even got to meet Minki in the first place. But, fuck. They were on a cruise where they’d never see anyone again. And if Minki’s ex’s feedback was anything to go by, what Minki needed to work on was being comfortable with being himself.

“He does drag shows. Runs an underground cabaret operation in Seoul.”

Daehwi’s eyes widened. “Not _Miss Velvet_?”

Dongho nodded. “That’s the one.”

“Oh my _God._ I knew I recognized him from somewhere. I’ve heard so much about that show. I’m actually planning to visit when I’m back in Seoul after this trip. Please please please Dongho, you _have_ to introduce me.”

“I guess,” Dongho shrugged.

“Oh—I don’t want to leave you all alone.” Daehwi pointed at a group of youths sitting around the jacuzzi. “Come hang out with my friends while I monopolize yours—fair?”

Dongho didn’t really need it to be so transactional, he was fine to introduce Daehwi to Minki without a tit-for-tat, but the fire in Daehwi’s eyes had a uniquely persuasive effect. “Sure, I guess.”

“Okay, here’s a primer. So, only one of them is actually gay and the rest are highly suggestible idiots. There’s the Ho, who’s a real cuddle bunny and like, needs to be touched, all the friggin’ time. Then there’s Linlin, who’s from Taiwan and his Korean is terrible so I don’t know how you guys are going to communicate, but he’s _such_  a sweetheart once you get to know him. That one with the nose is Sammie. He’s like, a _phenomenal_  dancer and he’s ultra competitive so, I don’t know, maybe you guys will have a dance-off. And then there’s Jin, who’s actually a jerk, but he’s my favorite because he just gives such good face.”

Dongho wasn’t sure if Daehwi was referring to “face” as in “respectful” or if it was some kind of lewd term. After Daehwi’s round of introductions he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to hang out with any of them. Especially not someone that Daehwi would introduce as “the Ho,” or as “ultra competitive.”

“Linlin looks cool.” Dongho thought there was something low-maintenance about him. And there was something endearing about the kid’s smile, which was almost all gum and no teeth. Guanlin looked like the kind of guy he’d be able to drink a few beers in companionable silence on this noisome boat.

“All right,” Daehwi said, knocking back the rest of his drink. “But just warning you, he’s kind of a package deal with the Ho.”

With the sun finally setting over the horizon, the mood was shifting too. The bass dropped, a disco ball switched on somewhere and Daehwi’s face was bathed in a scattered bubbles of light.

 

#

  
Direct as Daehwi was, smoothness was not one of his best qualities, at least not now. Daehwi dragged Dongho over to the group by the jacuzzi and introduced him as “Minki’s friend.” When one of the pretty boys asked who Minki was, Daehwi leveled them all with a gaze that could freeze Hell over and maybe the rest of the Milky Way with it.

“Seonho, Minki is an underground _legend_. Not that I’d expect you to know anything about anything.”

“Only the queen would know about such queensome things,” Jinyoung drawled.

“Shut your face,” Daehwi said with affection.

He told Guanlin that he and Dongho would have a lot in common and then promptly insulted Guanlin’s drink.

“What in the world is that?”

Guanlin turned the bottle in his hand. “Budweiser? Lite?”

“Seriously? What is _wrong_ with you? I can’t, I can’t even.“ Daehwi plucked the Bud Lite from Guanlin’s hand and set it on the edge of the jacuzzi as if it weee teeming with ebola. “Come, fool. Dongho’s gonna buy us a round of drinks.”

Guanlin blinked. “He is?”

Dongho blinked. “I am?”

“Yay!” Seonho cheered, and promptly fell into the jacuzzi.

At the bar, the bartender—a wild-haired woman with a Ganguro complexion grinned as they approached. “My word, four handsome men all at once. What can I get you fellas?”

They placed their drink orders. Dongho got himself a lager, and Guanlin followed suit. Daehwi demanded a vodka tonic and Dongho got Minki a pina colada. “With a pink umbrella, please,” he requested. Daehwi raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. Minki liked what Minki liked.

Now for Minki himself. Dongho wormed his way over to where Minki was playing necktie tug-of-war with some stiff-looking Japanese salaryman (did this guy not get the memo? Singles cruise, hello). “Hey, babe.”

“Now I’m _babe_?” Minki promptly let go of the gentleman’s necktie as Dongho handed him a pina colada. “What do you want from me?”

“Someone wants to meet you. A superfan.”

“Oh.” A mix of emotions flitted past Minki’s face.

“Not of your flat whites,” Dongho said, trying to get a smile out of Minki.

“I figured it wasn’t my barista skills that were world-famous,” Minki said, sipping at his drink.

“Said he found you on Instagram. I promised to introduce him. Now will you come over?”

“Sumimasen,” Minki told the salaryman, and followed Dongho back to the bar.

Back in Seoul, Minki ran a pop-up cabaret operation. Dongho had attended a few of the shows—as someone who had grown up with Minki, it had been heartening to see Minki’s flair for fashion, dance, theater, and sexuality come together under the banner of Miss Velvet & Company. But not everyone felt that way.

One morning Minki had invited Dongho for a cigarette after Dongho finished unloading the day’s worth of milk at the coffee shop where Minki worked. Minki knew very well that Dongho didn’t smoke, especially after his throat surgery, so something must have been up. Dongho declined the cigarette but accepted the invitation to go around back, where Minki promptly dissolved into tears.

“We broke up,” Minki said. “I got found out.”

“Found out about what?” Dongho racked his brain for any of Minki’s many secrets—it could be any number of things that Minki insisted on hiding away.

“You know,” Minki said, and melted into sobs again.

The difference between Minki during the day and Minki at night was like, well, the difference between midnight and high noon. On stage as Miss Velvet, Minki was a tour de force, some dreamlike entity straight out of a techno-Victorian cyberpunk fantasy. But you wouldn’t know it from the way Minki carried himself during the day. Minki was an espresso-making machine. Excruciatingly, painfully shy, much more comfortable behind the whir of the Lavazzaro than in front of customers.

Watching Minki cry, Dongho wondered when the breakup actually happened. It could have happened weeks ago and he wouldn’t have known. Ever since the bakery closed its doors, Dongho had been scrambling for work and hadn’t had a chance to properly catch up. He looped an arm around Minki and pulled him in for a hug.

“Can we go somewhere,” Minki said, after his sobs subsided a bit. “I want to get out of Seoul.”

Dongho thought through his savings. Meager though they were he had some stockpiled from back-to-back shifts. “Where do you want to go?”

“Singapore,” Minki said. Dongho stiffened, thinking about the price of plane tickets. Minki sensed his discomfort and leaned into Dongho’s side.

“I know you’re hard up on cash, especially with what’s happened to your dad... But our last few shows have been doing really well, so I can spot you some money. It’d be so nice to go somewhere...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dongho said. “I’ve got some cash saved up. I’ll come with you.”

“Really?” Minki spun around and squealed. Dongho couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden 180 in Minki’s face. Gone were the tears, replaced by excitement and happiness. It made him feel like they were back in high school again.

“Yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a proper vacation.” _And it’ll be a while before my next one_ , Dongho thought.

Despite his flamboyant night demeanor, Minki was savvy when it came to money matters, much better than Dongho was. For what they were getting—5-day party cruise off the coast of Sentosa—it wasn’t a bad deal at all.

And so here they were, making their way through the partying throng to one Lai Guanlin and one Lee Daehwi. Lee Daehwi, who was sparkly-eyed and fresh as hell, waving at them from the bar. Dongho’s heart lifted. Someone who knew about Miss Velvet already—who Minki didn’t have to hide anything from—that could be a really good rebound. For Minki.   
  
“I’m a _huge_ fan,” Daehwi breathed, reaching for Minki’s hand to shake it before Dongho even had a chance to say anything. “I can’t believe I’m meeting _the_  Miss V herself.”

“Aren’t _you_  the sweetest thing?” Minki cooed. Dongho blinked. That wasn’t barista Minki talking. This was midnight Minki. He settled into the barstool next to them and relaxed.

“Shit,” whispered Guanlin. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Okay, maybe not so relaxed after all.

Guanlin groaned and tried to hide his face behind his beer. 

“You okay, dude?” Dongho ventured, before Seonho slogged himself, dripping wet from the jacuzzi, and placed one wet hand on Dongho’s shoulder and the other on Guanlin’s.

“It’s not your diarrhea, is it? Hey Dongho-hyung, can you buy me a drink too?”

Dongho complied as Seonho told him about how Guanlin had been sick since he got to Singapore. “His delicate Taiwanese stomach can only handle mild foods.”

Seonho was about to launch into what seemed like graphic detail when Guanlin interrupted him.

“It’s not that,” Guanlin grumbled.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Seonho said. “The body is a wonderland.”

“It’s _that_ ,” Guanlin pointed emphatically, and then swiveled around on his chair and chugged his lager.

 _That_ was a bright-eyes, fetching girl with cascading waves of black hair, a rainbow-striped halter top and a pair of denim cutoffs. She was sitting poolside in a group of girls at the far end of the pool, their legs in the water.

“Oh my god! Let’s go say hi!”

“Can you keep it down,” Guanlin implored to Seonho. “And no. No way.”

“Who are they?” Dongho asked.

“Oh, they’re classmates of ours from school! Guanlin likes Tzuyu. A lot.”

“Aish,” Guanlin muttered.

“He’s liked her for years, since she adopted him as her little sib freshman year. I’ve been telling Guanlin to come clean already but he says it’d be like incest.”

“It _is_ incest. She’s my big sib.”

“Hasn’t stopped your feelings from flourishing,” Seonho crowed.

“Wait,” Dongho squinted. “Are you actually related?”

“No,” Guanlin muttered. “It’s a stupid thing in U.S. colleges. In clubs, the upperclassmen “adopt” younger classmates and show them around at school and teach them how things work.”

“And Guanlin wants Tzuyu to show him around and teach him how she works,” Seonho waggled his eyebrows up and down.

Dongho laughed. “So, when does she graduate?” Looking at Guanlin was like looking like a version of himself from the past. He remembered when he could barely talk to girls, much less ask them out. Looking at Guanlin now he decided to switch tacks. Obviously Guanlin was already spoken for—might as well help the kid out.

Daehwi may have had other plans for him but judging from the way he was getting along so fabulously with Minki, he had already accomplished his goal for the evening.

“She’s already done with school,” Guanlin muttered.

“But we’ve still got a year to go,” Seonho chirped.

“So sounds like this is a last chance kind of situation.”

“Why, Kang Dongho! You’re a romantic, aren’t you?” Seonho giggled.

Maybe he was. A pina colada, four shots of Grey Goose and a lager could do that do a man.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned in to Seonho. “If you think that’s romantic...” and chucked Seonho’s chin as the other boy’s eyes fluttered shut. Guanlin guffawed in laughter and quickly snuffed himself quiet.

“What was that?” Seonho’s eyes opened. “What witchery?”

Dongho signaled for another round of drinks. “All right, guys. If you want to make nice with girls, we’re going to need to practice.”

“I love role playing!” Seonho said, as Guanlin buried his face in his hands.

#

  
“Tzuyu is _definitely_  the hottest of her friends,” Seonho yelled over the music.

“I don’t know if “hottest” is the right word for it,” Dongho yelled back. “She’s classy.”

“Put your hands up in the air,” the DJ yelled, and so they did. “Now bounce. Bounce. Bounce.”

“Just go talk to her, you big baby,” Seonho said, starting to bounce. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I can’t talk to her right now,” Guanlin yelled back, hands in the air. “Pretty sure I’d puke all over her.”

“Then what,” Dongho said, bouncing up and down on one foot.

“Then she’d reject me and it’ll be over. The long Taiwanese romance fantasy that is Tzuyu and Guanlin will be long gone.” Guanlin punctuated his imagined despair with a dab.

“Promise you’ll talk to her before the end of the cruise,” Seonho said.

“K,” Guanlin promised.

“And if she turns you down then you’ll always have me,” Seonho said, and went in for another kiss, which Guanlin obliged.

Dongho wasn’t sure what the hell was going on between these two, but it’d been a long time since he had so much fun.

#

  
“Thief,” his neighbor grumbled, as Dongho turned over his cards for a royal flush.

“Bandit,” another person at the table grumbled, throwing his full house on the table.

“ _Sexy_  bandit!” Seonho corrected, as the chips came shuffling Dongho’s way. Guanlin harrumphed in solidarity.

Lee Daehwi hadn’t been lying when he said that the two were virtually inseparable. They were also lucky charms. Over the course of the evening, Dongho had already been crowned punch king at the basement arcade, had won four arm wrestling matches against random drunk bros at the buffet dinner, and racked up $800 Singaporean dollars at the poker tables.

Make that $1,000 Singaporean dollars.

“You’re getting _so_  lucky with us tonight,” Seonho screeched, as Dongho stacked his chips by color.

“Please forgive him,” Guanlin murmured to the table, chewing on his fiftieth maraschino cherry of the evening. His lips and fingertips were stained bright red. “He’s drunk. His English isn’t what it should be.”

“Excuse me, all is exactly as it should be,” Seonho said, and planted a wet kiss on Guanlin’s cheek which strayed to his mouth. Guanlin kissed him back until the crowd around their table began to whistle and howl and clap. In the din Dongho managed to sneak a look at his neighbor’s cards.

“All in,” he said to the dealer. Seonho kissed the crown of his head for good luck while Guanlin massaged his shoulders.

Yep. It’d been a long time since Kang Dongho had this much fun.

  
#

  
Why the hell did these hallways have to be so long?

Dongho stumbled down the hallway of the top floor of the cruise suites with Guanlin hanging off one arm and Seonho off the other. He thought he was doing a remarkably admirable job of balancing the two but given everything that had happened that day he was beginning to tire. Just a little bit. Mentoring was hard. Drinking more drinks tonight than he had in the past year was even harder.

His knees creaked as he adjusted his grip on Guanlin’s waist. _Getting old, Kang Dongho_.

He approached their room — the _Owner’s Loft_  emblazoned on a gold plaque next to two imposing double doors—and dug through Seonho’s pockets for a card key. Unlocking the door, he nearly dropped them on the floor. What the hell did these kids’ parents do for a living that they were able to afford a palatial loft with a gold-lacquered white grand piano in the middle of the living area?

“‘s that one,” Guanlin mumbled, and passed out again on Dongho’s shoulder.

Dongho lugged the both of them to a bedroom off the living area and plunked the two of them on the line king-sized bed, taking off their shoes before tucking them under the covers. He found two wastebaskets and put one on each side of the bed.

“Plenty o’ room,” Seonho mumbled, patting the spot next to him, before sitting up and wrapping himself around Dongho’s thigh. Dongho choked back a laugh as he tried to extricate himself. He could see how Seonho had earned his nickname from Daehwi.

“I’m going back to my own room.”

Seonho just gripped on tighter. “But you’re so nice to us,” Seonho hiccuped. “Should be sleepover time, Mr. Hyung.”

Seonho’s gaze was much too innocent for someone so close to his crotch. Dongho felt more like a dad being begged for candy than someone being propositioned for a good time. “I don’t think that would look so good,” Dongho laughed, giving his thigh an experimental wiggle. Nope. Seonho wouldn’t budge.

“Dun care so. So much ‘bout what other peeps think.” Guanlin mumbled from his pillow, and hooked an ankle around Dongho’s other thigh, nudging him closer to the edge of the bed.

Dongho was about to tell Guanlin that he should probably care a little more about what Tzuyu thought if he was going to make good on his promise to Seonho, but at that moment Lee Daehwi chose to pop in.

“Hi guys,” he said. “Gonna just close this door for y’all so you can keep your dirty talk to yourselves.”

“‘Hwiiiii,” Seonho said, and while he was distracted Dongho finally shook himself free.

“Sleep tight,” he said on his way out.

“Oh,” Daehwi raised an eyebrow as Dongho brushed past him. “Don’t let me ruin your evening.”

Dongho closed the door behind him, chuckling. “Thanks for the out,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on with them—“

Daehwi shrugged blithely.

“—But I don’t know if it’s something I want to get in between.”

“It looked like they were fine with that, actually.”

“I don’t move quickly when it comes to things like that.”

“Keeping your cards close to your chest?”

“I’m more of a slow burn.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing what happens when you hit jackpot.”

“I don’t know if it’s something you’ll be able to see.”

“Oh?”

“I’m a private guy.”

The way Daehwi was looking at him made him feel warm. Hot. Overheated. A bead of sweat rolled down Dongho’s eye and he wondered if he was coming down with something.

Daehwi rolled his eyes. “Oh my god. Jin!”

“What?” Came a drawl from near the entrance.

“Stop blasting the heater!” Daehwi stormed off.

“Housekeeping makes it _way too cold_  in here. I’m freezing my ass off.”

“That’s because you’re scrawny as hell and you’re actually a snake,” Daehwi hissed.

“Actually, can we keep it on for a bit?” That milky voice belonged to Sammie. “I’m a little bit cold, too.”

“Shut up out there,” Guanlin yelled from the bedroom. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Dongho slipped out in the squabble.

  
#

  
Cruise ships were too big for their own good. There was no way anything should be this big naturally. Not even whales from the prehistoric age, and Dongho was pretty sure those things were the size of a football field. _Pretty sure_  he learned that in school.

Dongho was sobering up but the edges of his buzz still made the hallways stretch out for much longer than they should go on for. And why did all the elevator landings have to look the same? Why did the people who made letters make “three” look like “five” or “eight?”

He got off on the wrong floor and then took a wrong turn so it was a good fifteen minutes before he finally found his room.

The room he shared with Minki was the standard room, featuring two twin beds jammed together and a scratched-up porthole window looking out onto the ocean. Minki was lying in bed, hair wet, in a terrycloth robe, playing on his phone.

“I can see your junk,” Dongho quipped.

“Who told you to look?”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

“I disagree,” Minki leered, sitting up, folding his robe around him more demurely. “I think all the partying with young folks has got you in the mood. Now this is the moment you tell me you’ve been in love with me this whole time.”

“Soulmates, connected by a red thread.”

Minki held up his pinky finger. Dongho raised his. At the last moment they broke the solemn mood with a high-five. Dongho fell onto the bed in a giggly heap.

“How are you doing?” Dongho said gently, after their laughs subsided.

“Oh, you know.” Minki’s voice was watery and he turned his head away. “It’s okay. I didn’t think about you-know-who almost the whole day.”

“Yeah,” Dongho said. It had been nice. He hadn’t thought much about anything, either. Nothing that mattered, anyway. Nothing about his dad, about money, about the last time he’d locked up _Bread & Pain_, the look on Hwang Minhyun’s face when he’d handed him the keys.

“Those boys are pretty entertaining, aren’t they?” Minki gave Dongho a knowing grin. Or maybe it was a knowing grin to himself. Maybe Dongho was projecting. Projecting Guanlin’s maraschino cherry lips and Seonho’s batting eyelashes and Lee Daehwi’s lightly-glossed pout onto the back of his eyelids.

“Were you entertained?” Dongho asked.

“I was more than entertained. I was humbled.”

“Uh. That’s a lot to handle for one evening.”

“The specter known as Lee Daehwi is a lot to handle. His dad died when he was eight and left him like, ten thousand Bitcoin. _Back in the day._  Sold it as soon as he was eighteen. Put all of it in index funds and then used the rest to start a lifestyle brand from his dorm. Kid barely sleeps.”

“Hrm.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just—“ Dongho shook his head. He wasn’t sure if he was impressed with Lee Daehwi’s weirdly precocious investment acumen or jealous that Minki was already deep in heart-to-heart land with someone he literally _just_  met. Maybe a bit of both. “He really opened up to you tonight.”

“Birds of a feather,” Minki said. “We’re both sad inside and trying to look like we’re not.”

“And here I just thought he was just some dumb kid.”

Minki grinned. “That one is Seonho. The guy you were hanging out with tonight? He booked them all on this cruise after seeing a commercial for it online. Daehwi was _pissed_. He was supposed to be at the YouTube Conference in Seoul this week. The guy has like eighty thousand subscribers and he’s only been online for a year. Proper up-and-coming talent.”

Dongho thought about how it must have gone down. Lee Daehwi, workaholic, being dragged on vacation at the last minute despite it being summer vacation. Red faced. Probably bitching up a storm. Probably _couldn’t even._

It made him laugh.

 

 

 

 


	2. Day Two

 

 

A whack, followed by a stripe of searing pain across his butt, jolted Dongho out of his nap.

“You trying to burn up? Move it inside, Kang Dongho.”

“Wanna tan,” Dongho mumbled, and turned around so he was on his back instead. He winced. His back was feeling a _little_ raw but damned if he was going to let Minki know. Minki simply snapped the towel over his junk. It took all his stoicism and laziness to not respond.

“Where’s your sunblock?”

“Mmph.” He’d been too lazy to apply more than just one coat. And that had been hours ago. And he’d been in the pool, too, for a game of water polo. Dongho threw a towel over his face and just hoped that a cloud would float over the sky soon.

“Hey, it’s bandit-hyung!” Dongho lay very still and prayed Minki would not ask where the nickname came from.

“Bandit-hyung is asleep,” Minki was grinning from the sound of his voice. “Are you Seonho?”

“That’s me!”

“And sorry, I don’t know your name. I’m Minki.”

“I’m Guanlin. Nice to meet you.”

“Well, Seonho and Guanlin—I have some bad news. Kang Dongho has ignored the number one rule of being Korean: 10x sunscreen come rain or shine. The good news is that you are now both deputized to save him from skin cancer. Here is some SPF. Please lathe it on his pink baby skin.”

And that was how Dongho found himself on the receiving end of a four-hand massage from the maybe-they-are-maybe-they-aren’t pair of baby chicks he had met only last night.

It must have been something in the sun, the ocean, and the boat. Thinking back to last night, he’d been infected with a swagger had somehow put him in the enviable position of having two college seniors diligently massaging sunscreen onto his chest while he pretended to be asleep.

“Bandit-hyung, we have an update for you. Today at lunch, Guanlin actually said _hi_ to Tzuyu. And he didn’t barf all over her!”

“Even though I’m still hungover.” Was it just Dongho or did Guanlin sound proud of himself?

“It’s a start,” Seonho said. “Bandit-hyung, turn over.”

Now Dongho was torn between feigning sleep and letting the two finish the job. He opted for the latter.

“Well, what did you say to her?” Dongho’s voice was gummy from sleep. Through his squint he could see them both. Seonho was dressed in yellow swim trunks and a matching yellow cap. Guanlin was sporting cool guy sunglasses, white swim trunks, and a thick stripe of sunblock on his nose. His mouth was still dyed red from last night.

“Nuthin’,” Guanlin said. “Just said hi, s’all.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Seonho rolled his eyes. “Guanlin was dry-heaving into his breakfast for like, half an hour before he finally went over to their table. And Tzuyu was so nice. She even gave you a hug!”

“Friend-zone kind of hug,” Guanlin said darkly.

Dongho turned over and like a magnet Seonho’s hands were all over his trapezius muscles. “You gonna follow up your first act with anything? Also, Seonho. Sunscreen, please.”

“I just wanna chill,” Guanlin said.

“Come on, Guanlin.” Seonho slapped Dongho’s back emphatically. “You can’t just wait it out on the sidelines like you always do. You know there’s a reason I bought us tickets here.”

Guanlin choked. “You mean you _knew_ * she was going to be here?”

“No no no,” Seonho said quickly. “I mean that it’s destiny. *Destiny.*”

“Did someone call my name?” Minki, again. Dongho chuckled and settled into the crook of his arm.   
“Wow,” and that would be Daehwi’s voice. “Are you guys having fun?”

Dongho cracked open an eye. Daehwi was standing there cooly with sunglasses much too big for his face, arms crossed over his chest. Bright orange swim trunks. There was something about it that made his skin look even paler than it was. Daehwi looked fragile. Skinny, even. It made Dongho’s heart twist a little funny.

Another slap on his back jolted him out of his thoughts. “Bandit-hyung’s back is *so smooth*,” Seonho said, and slapped it again for emphasis. Dongho grunted. First Minki, now Seonho. His body was just accumulating abuse today.

“*Bandit*-hyung?” Minki howled. “Wow. Almost twenty years I’ve known this guy and I’ve never heard a better nickname.*”*

“He won big at poker last night,” Guanlin said, by way of explanation.

“Thank god he did,” Daehwi said. “How else was he going to pay for all your drinks?”

Something about the way Daehwi said that tweaked him the wrong way. Dongho turned around and waved off Seonho and Guanlin. ““All right, all right guys,” he said. “It’s getting close to dinner anyway. I don’t think I need any more sunscreen.”

“Aww,” Seonho said, as Guanlin snapped the cap to the sunscreen shut. “Hey, you should come sit with us at dinner!”

“Seonho,” Daehwi hissed under his breath. “Maybe Dongho has *other* plans.”

What was about this kid that got under Dongho’s skin? It was all he could do to keep the annoyance off his face. “Thanks for the invite, Seonho,” he said, raising himself to his full height. “Can Minki come too?”

“Of course Minki-hyung can come, too!” Seonho clapped his hands. Even Guanlin looked pleased.

“Then we’ll see you there,” he winked. He turned to Daehwi and gestured at Minki. “We’re kind of a package deal.”

  
#  
  
  
Dinner on the cruise was one of those that went on forever, with way too many courses to stomach properly. Onstage rotated a series of magicians and singers, and other acts. Halfway through the dinner, the “sawed in half” act came up and the magician called for volunteers. Dongho was volunteered by Minki to “drop twenty kilos in two minutes.”

“You’re the one who’s always going on a diet,” Dongho protested to Minki. “You go.”

“Says the guy who didn’t eat bread for a whole year,” Minki hissed. “Also, I’m curious about how the inside of that machine actually works. Go and find out for us.”

“If you’re so curious, go yourself.”

“I’m terrified of saws.”

Three rounds of Rock Paper Scissors later, Dongho found himself being sawed in half. As the saw came down over the middle of the box, the magician pushed a button and his butt dropped into the false bottom of the contraption. He almost wish he weren’t wearing shoes so that he’d be able to wiggle his toes for Minki, who was watching Dongho get sawed with a mix of terror and delight.

“Before I deal the final blow,” the magician said, “I forgot to ask. Where are you visiting from?”

The crowd laughed. “Seoul,” Dongho said.

“Ah, no wonder you guys at that table are all so good-looking. So, Mister—“

“Bandit!” Minki called from the floor.

“Mister Bandit, are you actually a pop star? A movie star in disguise?”

“No sir.”

“So I’m not going to get slapped with a huge lawsuit if I finish the job?” The magician wiggled the saw and Dongho pretended to writhe in pain. It was a cheap laugh but from his vantage point he could see that even frosty Jinyoung had cracked a smile.

“All right all right, I’ll spare your life on one condition. You have to sing the national anthem of your country.”

Singing? ... Nah. Dongho shook his head.

“Have it your way.” The magician punched the saw all the way through and the lights flashed. Dongho played dead.

“Oh dear,” the magician said, when the lights came back on. “Anyone in the audience care to bring our subject back to life?”

“Let him die!” Came a shout from somewhere far back. “He cleaned us out at poker!”

“Any of the pop stars from Table 5?”

There was a beat of silence. “I’ll do it.”

Guanlin? Dongho cracked an eye open. Sure enough, Guanlin was rising to his feet. He climbed up the steps and stood next to Dongho’s head onstage.

“What’s your name—and where are you visiting from?”

“Sure,” Guanlin said. His voice was shaky but he sounded almost excited. “Hi everyone. I’m Guanlin, from Taiwan.”

“Hi Guanlin,” came a smattering of greeting from the audience, and a few scattered whoops. Tzuyu included.

“Actually, uh,” Guanlin cleared his throat. “I’m going to beatbox.”

The magician whooped. Dongho wish he had turned his face to the other side to die—it was seriously hard to keep a smile off his face.

Guanlin started slow and almost shy. Punchy kick-drop, followed by a thin hi-hat, then lips tightening for the snare. He built up the 8-bit rhythm slowly, heavy on the bass, closing his eyes and swaying side to side. The dining hall was silent. Nobody could resist a good beatboxer. Dongho wasn’t immune either.

“Someone’s feeling the beat,” the magician crooned. It was true. Dongho was tapping his toes against the top of the box. On the next downbeat, the lighting assistant started strobing to Guanlin’s beat. A few more whoops emerged from the crowd. Someone whistled. And before he knew it, Dongho found himself singing the Korean national anthem—Mount Baekdu, hibiscus flowers, pine trees, autumn skies and all.

  
#

  
Dongho was thankful that Seonho dragged them all down to the arcade before he could ask for a third helping of dessert. After all, the twenty kilos he’d lost in two minutes had all come roaring back thanks to Guanlin’s beatbox of life.

Daehwi, Minki, and Jinyoung gravitated toward the rhythm games right away, while Dongho found himself pulled to the vintage Capcom arcade machine with Street Fighter looping on the home screen. Like goslings, Guanlin, Seonho, and Sammie followed him to the dank machine in the corner of the arcade. Dongho was surprised that none of them had played old school street fighter before. “Seriously?”

“I had an Xbox growing up,” Guanlin shrugged, back on his regimen of cherries.

This time Seonho’s lips were stained just as red and ridiculous as he popped maraschino cherries like they were nuts. “Is Capcom a Microsoft label, Bandit-hyung?”

Seriously.

Dongho taught Guanlin the controls, then Seonho, and then even Sammie, who had grown less shy over the course of the day, much to Dongho’s relief. He couldn’t stand to see someone left out, especially someone as puppy-faced as Kim Samuel. Eventually the others migrated their way over to the Capcom machine. Dongho couldn’t follow their conversation but a quick eavesdrop revealed they were in a heated debate over which of Balenciaga’s creative directors was more original.

Jinyoung proved to be a formidable opponent. Dongho had guessed that the kid was a secret nerd before he realized he had the height and looks to be more stuck up than he should. He held back until the final of three rounds, when on a slim, red stub of health bar he fireballed Jinyoung into oblivion. Jinyoung jumped up, hissing, and stormed off.

“Aww, Jin.” Daehwi called after him. “Are you okay? Ego bruised?”

“He plays dirty.” Jinyoung called back. “I’m getting a slurpee. Who wants one?”

And then it was just Dongho and Daehwi. Dongho patted the seat next to him. “Fight me?”

Daehwi sat down with imperial aplomb. “You’re on.”

  
#

  
From the way Minki had sold him on this singles cruise, Dongho had expected a lot more hooking up and a lot less making new friends while playing video games. Not that it was bad or anything. He’d gotten his tan, he’d gotten his fill of chili crab, and now he was knee-deep in nostalgia and his twelfth round of Ryu versus Chun Li.

Chun Li. Classic.

“She’s faster than the others,” Daehwi gritted out, leveling a high kick as Dongho blocked. “Obviously. Now stop distracting me with questions.”

“Just wanted to get into your head,” Dongho said, throwing a flurry of punches. “What is Chun Li to Lee Daehwi?”

“Who doesn’t love Chun Li? Ow, ow ow ow. Oh my god, stop talking!”

“*You* stop talking,” Dongho said easily, slipping past Daehwi’s jump kick and attacking Chun Li from behind. Daehwi cursed a blue streak and leant so close to the arcade machine that his pout almost touched the screen.

It was cute.

Dongho’s hand slipped on the controller and in that split second, he was backed into the left corner and Chun Li had beaten Ryu’s face to a pulp.

“K.O.,” the machine announced.

“HA! I win!”

Dongho stood up and wiped his hands on his shorts. Sweaty and cramped, from so many games of Street Fighter. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Aww, don’t be a sore loser.” Daehwi was smug. Like he’d just had every one of his favorite things in the world delivered to him on a platter. If there was a moment for Daehwi to reveal to Dongho that he was secretly the world’s most pampered cat, it would be now and Dongho would believe it.

“Gloating doesn’t suit you.” A lie.

“Actually, it does.” Daehwi didn’t take his eyes off Dongho. Dongho flexed his hands in and out of fists, trying to get the blood moving again.

“You always like this when you get what you want?”

“How am I when I get what I want?”

“Smug.” _Too cute for your own good._

“I don’t know,” Daehwi said easily. “I don’t usually.”

Dongho raised an eyebrow. “Sure you don’t.”

They held each other’s gazes. Daehwi was wearing colored contacts again. Different than the ones yesterday—today his eyes were grey. He looked like somebody from another universe. A far, far, cry from Dongho’s everyday reality. He felt his ears getting hot but he didn’t want to be the first to look away. Let Lee Daehwi get a taste of his own medicine. Two could play at this game.

Daehwi’s lips parted. Dongho’s eyes flickered there and back to his gaze. Daehwi’s eyes sang with light.

“You’re pretty good at Street Fighter,” Dongho conceded.

“You’re a pretty good singer,” Daehwi said softly. “You have a really nice voice.”

F.

“Thanks,” Dongho said, mouth dry. “That was the first time I’ve sung in a long time.”

“Why?” Daehwi tilted his head to the side. And with that one movement they weren’t in an arcade floating in the middle of the ocean anymore. Dongho wasn’t sure where he was, actually.

“Had surgery.” Dongho’s hands automatically went up to his throat. “Was hard after that.”

“You’re good,” Daehwi said. “You ever think about doing something with it?”

“Like what.”

“Like, I don’t know. There’s a lot of ways to get recognized.”

Dongho blinked and shook his head. “I’m not that good, come on.”

“Says who?“

“It’s not for me,” Dongho shook his head. “Trying to get heard, trying to get contracts or represented by some company, it’s not for me. I just like singing once in a while.”

“You should give it a try,” Daehwi leaned in. “You can produce yourself these days. Like me, I started on YouTube. And you can see exactly where your followers come from, and grow your audience base strategically—“

“Sounds like a good project for Minki,” Dongho said. He stood up. “Speaking of which, where’s everyone else gone?”

“Seriously.” And then Daehwi’s hand was on his forearm and Dongho found himself eye-to-eye with the kid.

“It’s not that easy,” Dongho said. “Not everyone can just make it big.”

“It’s never too late to try. I mean, why wouldn’t you if you could?”

“Ha,” Dongho said. “That’s so American of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not all of us have what you have.”

“And pray tell, what do I have that you don’t?”

“You know.” Dongho thought of the gaudy, gold-rimmed piano up in the penthouse unit of this boat somewhere.

“Okay okay, I got it.” Daehwi let go of his arm. “Whatever.”

Screw this. Dongho didn’t come here to get career advice from a kid. He was doing just fine. Delivery work got him moving around and using his body and that’s what he liked. It wouldn’t last forever. When Minhyun came back, he’d hire Dongho again, and they’d try their hand at another bakeshop. Everything would go back to normal. Forget about what that white collar jerk Kim Jonghyun did or didn’t do—

A sudden cheer from the other side of the arcade set them jogging over. Their group was crowded in front of the Punch King machine. Samuel was in a heap on the floor, holding his wrist, eyes clenched in pain. Jinyoung and Guanlin were gawking between the scoreboard and at the skinny heap of boy on the floor while Minki wound a string of salmon-colored tickets around his arm.

“Bandit-hyung!” Seonho screeched. “Can you believe _Sammie_  almost broke your record?”

“What in the—” Daehwi dropped down to his knees. “Dude, are you okay?”

“I think it broke me,” Samuel slurred. Sure enough, the area around his wrist was flushed, and a purple spot bloomed at its center.

“I think it’s a sprain,” Minki whispered to him. “He punched the machine too hard. Couldn’t beat your score but got second place.”

“I’m Prince of Punch,” Samuel said deliriously. “Me punch long time.”

“Okay okay, Punch—let’s get you to the infirmary,” Daehwi said. “Jin, can you stop being so useless and get some ice from the bartender? Seonho, find a phone and call the ship doctor. Let them know we’re coming and find out where the infirmary is. Guanlin, go with him to make sure he actually does it. And Kang Dongho!”

It took all of Dongho’s willpower not to respond with _Sir yes sir!_

“Since you’re the biggest out of all of us, you‘re responsible for carrying Sammie.”

“I’m not paralyzed or nuthin’,” Samuel protested. “I can walk just fine.”

“You’ve had way too much to drink. Why the hell did you hit the thing so hard?”

“Wanted to be Punch King,” Samuel said faintly.

Dongho did feel a little guilty. If he hadn’t punched so hard yesterday, Samuel might not be here right now. So he picked the kid off the floor and awaited his next orders. Seonho and Guanlin came back from the phone.

“It’s on the fourth floor,” Seonho said. They’ll send someone to meet us by the elevators if we go now. And Daehwi, now is *not* the time to be admiring bandit-hyung’s biceps!”

“I wasn’t,” Daehwi said drily. “I was just thinking that this whole thing is kind of Dongho’s fault.”

“Is it?” Dongho’s guilt intensified.

“Sure,” Daehwi said. “You set the high score that Sammie was trying to beat. We wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you.”

There was some logic to it. Actually, Dongho had already arrived at the same conclusion. But did Daehwi really have to go around advertising it?

If Dongho weren’t feeling so guilty he might be able to feel properly put out. Maybe even flattered to be on the receiving end of so much attention. But now was not the time. He had his arms full of a whimpering Samuel and they had an infirmary to visit.

“March!” said Lee Daehwi.

  
#

  
The staff arranged a splint for Samuel to wear for the next two days. The doctor told him to avoid pushups, swimming, rock climbing — anything that involved using the wrist. When he emerged into the waiting room, Daehwi took the slip and trotted over to the pharmacist’s.

“How’d it go?” Dongho still felt guilty. Seeing Samuel’s wrist bandages and set he wondered if he should offer to carry him back to the suite. But Samuel looked like he was sobering up.

“It’ll heal in two weeks,” Sammie said. “The doctor said it’s not the first time someone’s been injured by that machine.”

“That sucks,” Dongho said.

“I know,” Sammie leaned back in his chair. “I was looking forward to tomorrow, too.”

“What were you guys planning to do?”

“Snorkeling. Since we’re docking in Phuket, there are some sand bars out where stingrays gather. You can pet them.”

“Stingrays? Like those animals that killed the Australian TV guy?”

“They’re supposed to be tame,” Samuel said. “Since they get fed every day.”

It was funny to think that something so alien-looking could be friendly. Dongho didn’t know what a domesticated stingray looked like. Actually, he barely knew what a stingray looked like. He had pet a starfish at an aquarium once, but that was the closest he had come to marine life.

“Why don’t you take my place? It’ll be fun. And you can tell me all about it later.”

Dongho balked. “I’m sure you can sit. On the boat.“

“You make it sound so appealing. Don’t worry about it, man.” Samuel gave him an easy smile and leaned in. “I’m getting a little bit tired, hanging out with them. They’re so loud. I need to chill and this gives me the perfect excuse.”

“I really don’t want to intrude,” Dongho said. Samuel shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. Daehwi likes you just fine. And if Daehwi likes you then you’re golden.”

“Me?” Dongho squeaked. Samuel laughed.

“He told me last night: ‘Dongho looks scary at first. But he’s actually pretty cute.’”

Dongho turned his face away so Samuel wouldn’t see his blush. “There goes my reputation.”

“As what? A noona-slayer or a poker cheat?” Samuel teased.

“I don’t know—you guys have your own group. I feel like I’m crashing the party.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you why, then. Seonho invited the girls in Tzuyu’s group and some of them are coming. My girlfriend gets *mad* jealous when I hang out with other girls.”

“Who gets jealous?” That would be Daehwi, walking back with the meds. “Sammie, you’re really not coming tomorrow?”

Samuel straightened up in his chair. “I should _really_  call Somi. She misses me.”

“You mean _you_  miss the hell out of her.” Daehwi sat down next to him and clicked his tongue. She’s probably having the time of her life without you.” At Samuel’s wounded expression Daehwi looked remorseful. “Fine, FaceTime with your girlfriend tomorrow and miss out on a wild afternoon cuddling with stingrays.”

“Cuddling?” Dongho said.

“Stingrays are the cutest,” Daehwi said sarcastically. “You won’t be able to resist.”

“Don’t you flake too,” Samuel said in warning. “Seonho won’t be happy.”

Daehwi bristled. “I‘m here, aren’t I?”

Samuel didn’t reply. At that moment, Minki, Seonho, Guanlin, and Jinyoung walked through the waiting room doors with a giant stuffed dog wearing a paper crown that read “Get Well Soon”.

“We used up your tickets,” Minki said, depositing the stuffed dog in Samuel’s lap. “Do you like it?”

“Oh. My. _God_.” Samuel said.

 

 

 


	3. Day Three

 

 

They met the girls at the ship exit at half past noon and disembarked. It took them fifteen minutes by taxi to reach the harbor where the chartered boats left for the sand bar where the stingrays congregated.

Dongho had been on the ferry between Yeouido Park and Gangnam many times, but this was a different kind of boating experience altogether. The yacht that Seonho had chartered was something out of scifi movie: white leather seats in the interior, futuristic blue lighting running in strips along the rooms, curved glass tables in oblong, abstract shapes. But for all the space on board, they all dropped their bags off in the main area and headed up to roof, where they applied sunscreen and lay in the shade of the awning.  
_  
The ship captain told them it would take an hour to get out to the sandbar, where they would spend another hour before heading to a private beach for lunch. It was Seonho, Jinyoung, Guanlin, Dongho, and Daehwi on the guys’ side. Of the girls who joined, there was Tzuyu, Jihyo, Momo, Sana, and Mina. Dongho knew that he was the eldest of the group. But though he was the eldest he knew he had no rights to the top of the pecking order.

That position belonged to Lee Daehwi, who had commandeered the speakers and pop music. To his credit he did go around the deck and solicit input on the playlist, so he wasn’t a total dictator. Daehwi started the music, the captain started the engine, and they all puttered out of the harbor in good spirits.

An attendant had come upstairs to take their drink order but Dongho wanted to look at all the options before he made a decision. He also wanted a break from looking at Lee Daehwi and his perfect skin and his pale floof of hair and the way he waltzed on deck like he owned the damn boat.

“You should come along,” he’d told Minki the previous night.

“No thank you,” Minki had begged off. “Stingrays are really not my thing.”

“You can stay on the boat, though.”

“Well—who’s going to look after Samuel while you’re all cavorting with the fish?”

Dongho huffed. “Pretty sure he can look after himself.”

“He’s a baby!”

Minki also complained of being seasick, but there was no way that could be right. Dongho saw that perhaps the real thing going on here was that Minki needed as much a break from these young hoodlums as much as Dongho himself did.

Except...

Dongho usually kept to himself. He didn’t like socializing that much. So why was he here?

Lee Daehwi’s perfect skin, his floof of hair, and the way he waltzed around like he owned the damn boat provided a few clues.

“What do you have?” He asked the attendant, as the attendant opened the fridge. It was stocked with champagne, white wine, spritzers, soju (“Mr. Ho told us you are visiting from Korea”), and many other juicy delights. And beer, of course.

“Would you care for something on the lighter side?” The attendant pulled out a bottle of wine. “This is a 2011 Chardonnay from Napa.”

Dongho wasn’t sure what a Napa or a Chardonnay was but he wanted to be agreeable so he nodded. The attendant fetched him a glass and uncorked it.

“Wait,” Dongho said. “Is this included?”

“Yes, sir.” The wine glugged into the glass. Dongho wasn’t used to drinking wine. He wasn’t used to being on a boat. He wasn’t used to being a “sir.”

His Casio read 1:45pm. They had barely begun.

 

#

 

Before he went back upstairs he wanted to explore the rest of the boat. There were four levels, including the roof. On the landing there was a sitting area the size of his apartment back in Seoul. The second floor had two bedrooms and a social area with a pool table and a library filled with out-of-date English language paperbacks, coffee table books of seafront properties and some Vietnamese bodicerippers. They plumed dust as he rifled through the pages. They smelled old. It was kind of nice, actually. He hadn’t smelled that book smell in a while.

There was also, and Dongho sensed that there was a theme for everything this group of boys did, a piano in the library room. The owner of this yacht had some taste compared to the decorator of the Owner’s Loft, at least—the piano was black, glossy, seven feet long. Dongho opened the cover and removed the red dustcover. He played a few scales on the high keys. Tapped through a quick 1-4-5 chord progression in C Major. It made a nice sound. Pity the hardwood floor on this floor made the sound echo. But judging from the dust on the piano itself, this probably wasn’t played very often.

Dongho wondered if there could be a way to know how many pianos were sitting pretty at any given moment. This one included. It was a little sad — a lonely piano floating in the middle of the ocean off the coast of Vietnam.

“Surprise, surprise. I didn’t know you played.“

Dongho turned to See Lee Daehwi standing in the doorway. He already had a flush over his nose. From the sun or the alcohol, Dongho couldn’t tell. He had put on a filmy white shirt, probably of some linen material.

“Just enough.” Dongho moved to close the lid, but Daehwi was already next to him, ghosting his fingers over the black keys. Dongho could feel the heat coming off his body. Could almost smell the sunshine that he had soaked in, the scent sunscreen emanating from him in warm pulses. Daehwi bumped Dongho’s hip with his own and sidled in.

“Play something,” Daehwi said. “Please?”

With the addition of that simple _please_ , Dongho found himself playing a C, F, G chord progression in a 3-4 beat. He kept it simple; just chords, medium tempo, neither too fast nor too slow. And Daehwi began to improvise.

“Sounds nice,” Daehwi said in between an arpeggio run. “When did you learn?”

“When I was twelve or thirteen.” Dongho noticed Daehwi was picking up the pace, and sped up to match. “Not long. I’m not good.”

“Why’d you start?”

“What makes you think something started it?”

“Something always starts it,” Daehwi said, trilling between B and C before Dongho modulated them back to the tonic. It was pretty. Just like the way Daehwi held his head high.

“All right, all right. I liked someone.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to play her something.”

“Same girl as the one who inspired your tattoo?” Daehwi pointed at the white tiger on his arm.

Dongho shook his head. Some part of him was pleased that Daehwi had remembered their conversation from the first night.

“So what was the song?”

“Nothing special.”

“Come on,” Daehwi said, elbowing his side.

“Okay, okay. It was an American pop song.”

“You remember the name?”

Dongho told him, and Daehwi burst into peals of laughter. It didn’t sound derisive, for once.

“I know that song, I love it. Play the chords, I’ll sing along.”

Dongho played the first few chords. Daehwi jumped in. When Dongho got stuck, Daehwi told him the keys. When Dongho couldn’t find the right keys, Daehwi moved his fingers into place.

“Ah,” Dongho said. “You must think I’m really dumb.”

“I don’t,” Daehwi said.

When the chorus ended, Daehwi sat back and sighed happily. “So—did you end up playing it for her?”

Dongho shook his head. “No.”

“Aww, why?”

“Was too shy.”

Dongho flipped the chord progression and moved them into E minor. Daehwi grinned.

“You’re giving me sad vibes, Kang Dongho. It’s too bad I don’t play the violin.”

“It was a sad moment in my life.” Dongho hit the keys harder. “She moved to a different school after that year. I never got to tell her.”

He ran out of steam halfway through the minor chord progression. Daehwi jumped in and started to improvise again. “Sorry. I should know better than to pry into your life at this point.”

Dongho scratched his head with a free hand. “There’s not really much to ask about. I don’t do anything exciting. Not like you.”

“You’re too nice. I’m the pushy one.”

“I am? You are?”

“I hope you’re having fun,” Daehwi said. He was pink beyond the flush the sun brought to his face. “Samuel just invited you out of the blue. And I hope we haven’t, like, ruined your vacation.”

Of course he was having fun. He liked that Daehwi had come over to him on day one and demanded to be introduced to Minki. He liked winning at poker. He liked that he was here on this fancy boat with its ridiculously expensive everything. He liked playing the piano with Daehwi. But he didn’t think that he was the nice one. That honor fell to Samuel, with his kind eyes and gentle voice, or to Seonho with his ability to include everybody in everything.

Or the way Daehwi looked now—sweet, sunburned, simple in his white shirt. Dongho realized with a start that Daehwi wasn’t wearing contact lenses. His eyes were brown.

Lee Daehwi looked... normal. Just a normal boy.

“You haven’t ruined anything,” he said. His voice sounded gruff even to his own ears. “You’ve made my vacation a lot nicer than it would have been.”

Daehwi shifted on the bench, and their shoulders pressed together. Daehwi’s felt small and bony. Like a bird’s. If Dongho were a robin, that would probably make Dongho an emperor penguin. He felt clumsy next to Daehwi. Everything about him felt clumsy next to this kid.

Daehwi had started playing something classical. It made Dongho think of the neighborhood where he used to work with Minhyun. Down the road where he used to walk from the bus station to the bakery was a music school. Their classes usually ended at the same time that Dongho’s shift would. Sometimes he’d get out a little earlier and walk past and he’d be able to snatch bits and pieces of Bach and Mozart and Beethoven out of the air.

“When did you start learning to play?” Dongho said, tearing his eyes away from Daehwi’s fingers, from the way they glided over the piano keys.

“When I was five,” Daehwi said. “My mother loved music so she signed me up for lessons right on my birthday. Already had a piano teacher lined up for years.”

“Were you already in the U.S. by then?”

“I was still in Korea.” Daehwi’s voice was quiet over the minuet. “With my mom and dad.”

“Minki told me about your dad,” Dongho said. “I’m sorry.”

The air was heavy. Part of it was because of what was happening with his own dad. Dongho knew it. Some part of him wanted to tell Daehwi.

“He got really sick when I was eight,” Daehwi sighed. “When he passed away, that’s when my mom and me moved to LA to be with my auntie.”

“And that’s where you’ve been ever since?”

“Yep.”

“Well,” Dongho struggled for the words. What did people say in moments like this? Why couldn’t he just be natural? He had no trouble listening to Minki, but Minki was different. He had known Minki since they were little kids. Daehwi—he just met him a day ago. Two days ago. Dongho should not be this concerned about someone he just met.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

“It’s okay,” Daehwi said. His mouth had set in a thin line. “I didn’t mean to make everything all depressing. God, it’s really not that bad. I used to be mad about it, but we’re doing well now, mom and me.”

“She must be really proud of you,” Dongho said. “You went to a good school and you’re about to graduate soon, and you’re super talented.” Dongho bit the inside of his mouth. What was he doing? Daehwi didn’t need comforting from someone he had just met. Someone who had no idea about his history, who he was, someone who until just five minutes ago thought he was a rich brat with a pretty face and zero substance.

The way Daehwi was looking at him right now—he didn’t deserve it. Dongho was about to suggest that they go back upstairs, but Daehwi beat him to the punch.

“Seonho’s going to cry if we don’t head up soon and hang out with the rest of them. Actually, he was crying earlier. That’s why I came downstairs.”

“About what?” Dongho couldn’t keep the alarm out of his voice. Daehwi smiled, then signed.

He’s been really dramatic over the last few days. Even before we got on the ship. I just needed a little bit of a break from him. Honestly, I think that’s why Sammie didn’t join either. We’re tired of his drama. It’s like, if you like someone, just tell them and get it over with, you know? And he’s wearing himself out silly trying to make Guanlin happy and Guanlin is just, just this fool who doesn’t see, or doesn’t want to see, what’s right in front of him. It’s fun to watch from the outside, but it really takes the energy out of you.” Daehwi shot him a sidelong smile. “Thanks for babysitting them the other night.”

Dongho laughed. “So that’s the real reason why you approached me.”

“True. I was checking you out—you looked like prime babysitter material,” Daehwi grinned. “But no, do you know how thrilled I was to meet Minki? I’ve been following his Instagram for a while now.”

“That’s good,” Dongho said. He took a breath. “He’s really happy to have met you too.”

Daehwi’s ears were properly pink, and Dongho couldn’t resist ruffling his hair. Daehwi shot him a dirty look. Of course he’d hate it.

“C’mon,” Dongho said, spreading the red dustcover over the piano keys and closing the lid. “Let’s go join the others before Seonho throws himself overboard.”

 

#

 

They didn’t have much time upstairs before the captain switched off the engine and they used the momentum to glide toward their destination.

The water was clear and blue — clearer than any water Dongho had ever seen in his life. Out here, nothing could hide. It felt like he could see to the bottom of the ocean if only he were high enough. And in the water were stingrays. Gliding slowly, they looked like spaceships circling in for a homing pad.

A fishing jetty was docked out on the sandbar, and a tanned man and woman both wearing bucket hats waved at them as their yacht approached.

“Ahoy!” Seonho called. They were the stingray guides, he explained.

Jinyoung and Seonho were the first one off the boat, all smiles and childlike excitement. It was weird to see Jinyoung bounding around like a puppy since he was normally so sullen. Guanlin helped Tzuyu disembark, holding her hand as she stepped off the boat. Dongho shot a look at Seonho, but the kid was already hand-deep in a bucket of raw squid.

“Eww,” Jinyoung said, squishing the squid in his hand. He and Seonho pretended to feed each other, taking selfies on the GoPro they brought.

“This is for them,” the male guide said, offering the bucket of squid to Dongho. “Take a piece and hold it underwater. The stingrays will come right up to you and they’ll eat it right out of your hand. No worry—they don’t have teeth, so it’ll just feel like a vacuum is sucking your fingers off.”

“Like this,” the woman handed him a piece of squid. Dongho noticed she wore several pieces around her fingers, as if they were rings. Well, they were rings, now that he thought about it. “Now put your hand in the water, and wait.”

As soon as the smell of squid entered the water, the stingrays started to beat tight laps around the sandbar. One paddled around Dongho—a black, slippery creature like something out of a sci-fi movie. In the sunlight, Dongho could see its back flecked with reflective spots. He had seen this creature before, in *Finding Nemo*.

The animal came to his thumb and just like the guide said—sucked it right off. Like a vacuum. Dongho’s high-pitched laugh set off a ripple of laughter around the sandbar.

“You know you can pick them up, too?” The guide bent under the water, holding his forearms out straight in front of him. “Like this. Bait them with the fish, and then, when they’re right in front of you, put your arms under their body, one under each wing. Then you stand up. They will come out the water with you.”

“Like a dead lift,” Dongho said to himself, and tried it. The same stingray swam over, sucked the piece of squid off Dongho’s hand, and in a flash second Dongho picked up the stingray with his forearms.

“Now kiss it!” said the guide.

The stingray’s mouth gaped open and closed at Dongho, like it was talking to him. Gobble gobble gobble. Dongho kissed its nose. Or its front. He wasn’t sure if these guys had noses, per se.

“Got it,” Seonho said, waving the GoPro. “Blackmail material acquired, bandit-hyung.”

When his head cleared from the shock of having just kissed a wild stingray, he realized that Daehwi was still on the boat. Daehwi was looking over the proceedings from the back of the boat. Wearing big sunglasses, hands folded across the railing. A little bit lonely. Geez. Did he have to make looking lonely look good, too?

“Is there any more?” Dongho made his way over to the bucket of squid. There were only a few pieces left. He scooped up the remains. “Lee Daehwi,” he called. “What are you still doing up there?”

“I can’t,” Daehwi replied.

“What do you mean, you can’t? Can you swim?”

“I’m an *excellent* swimmer,” Daehwi shot back. “I just don’t like slimy things.”

“They’re not slimy!”

“Come on down,” Seonho called. Some of the girls called out to him too, but Daehwi shook his head.

The guide had picked up one of the stingrays and had been rubbing it over people’s backs. A stingray massage, he called it. Guanlin had picked up one with his arms and was making faces at it. Tzuyu was taking pictures of him with a GoPro. “It’s amazing,” Guanlin hollered.

“Come on,” Dongho said, holding out his hand. With squid in it. Some offering it was but Daehwi couldn’t miss this. “If one attacks you, I’ll punch it in the head.”

“Violence is not the answer.” Daehwi rolled his eyes. “But oh, all right.” And he unbuttoned his shirt. All pale skin underneath. Dongho hoped he had put on enough sunblock.

“Here,” Dongho said, when Daehwi stepped off the ladder and walked over to them. “They were almost all gone.” Their hands touched as he slid one of the squid rings around Daehwi’s thumb. “Okay, now hold it under the water.”

The stingray closest to them did a U-turn and drifted closer. Daehwi was tight-lipped. He looked like he had a live current running through him. Dongho almost laughed again.

“I can’t,” Daehwi said, pulling his hand out of the water. Dongho took his hand and guided it back under the water.

“It’s okay. It won’t hurt you. See, it’s coming! It’s coming—just hold still, and—“

 

#

 

Back onshore, a flock of seagulls took off for the skies, as if startled by some distant shriek.

 

#

 

They were congregated at the bar on the first floor in various shades of red. Dongho hadn’t been able to reach one spot on his back and there was an angry splotch of red growing there.

“Poor you,” one of the girls, Jihyo had cooed, rubbing aloe on his back. “Should have asked one of us for help.”

After they returned on board, they had lunch on the ship. Dongho had gotten to know one of the girls better; the first thing he noticed about her was her long hair and that she was *stacked*. She had put on a shirt again but it was fairly sheer, and he could still see her neon-colored bikini through the fabric. She wasn’t shy, and flirted with him openly. It was nice to be appreciated so blatantly, and Dongho found himself reciprocating.

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” Seonho said. His arm was looped around Guanlin and he was on his phone, looking at the itinerary of activities for tomorrow. “We should plan something for tomorrow. Look at this—it’s a jungle trek! We can see monkeys and stuff.”

“I already see enough monkeys every day,” Guanlin deadpanned, earning himself a slap on the shoulder.

“I dunno,” said Jinyoung. He took up an entire couch himself with his long body and gangly limbs. “I kinda just wanna chill.”

Seonho bristled. “There’s plenty of time for chilling when we’re dead. Plus, didn’t we have fun today?”

“I don’t know,” yawned Daehwi. “I’m with Jinyoung. I think we should just chill.”

“Fine,” Seonho spluttered. “I’m always the one planning everything, anyway. One of you guys can plan something for a change.”

“We don’t _make_ you do anything,” Jinyoung said. “You do it yourself.”

“If I didn’t do it, who would?”

“I don’t know, dude. Maybe you shouldn’t try so hard to get everybody together.”

Seonho gaped like he’d been shot. Guanlin put his hand on Seonho’s shoulder and rubbed it. “Hey, hey, I don’t think Jinyoung meant it.” Jinyoung‘s mouth was twisted funny, like he wanted to but couldn’t bring himself to apologize.

Daehwi huffed. “Jinyoung’s just being an ass, as always. You know he gets cranky when he doesn’t get enough sleep. Or when he gets too much sun. That’s what happens when you’re actually a vampire.”

Nobody knew what to say after that for even though Daehwi had tried to lighten the mood, Seonho looked on the verge of tears. Dongho was about to say something, anything, but then Seonho stood up and walked out.

Guanlin looked around, and then got up too. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“Only gonna make things worse,” Jinyoung muttered.

“How about some music?” Daehwi said brightly. “I’ll put on our playlist.” It was now Dongho’s part of the playlist, and he regretted the choice of dark R&B. The mood in the living area just got darker than it already was. Jinyoung twisted on the couch, trying to get comfortable, while the girls dug into their mobile phones.

“Are they always like this?” Jihyo whispered in Dongho’s ear. He shook his head, neither a yes or a no. He didn’t feel right just letting Seonho walk off like that.

“Give me a sec,” he said to her.

From the direction of their voices, it sounded like Guanlin and Seonho had gone to the roof. Dongho climbed up on the ladder and heard them in the middle of an argument.

“They’re always like this. Nobody ever wants to do anything and then it’s always on me to plan things and make sure everyone has a good time. And then it’s oh, Seonho, do you think we should do this? And then I’m the one who has to go around and make everyone agree to do stuff. Do you know how tiring it is?”

“You can relax too,” Guanlin said. “You don’t have to make things so hard for yourself.”

“Like I said earlier, if I don’t do this, nobody will.”

“But nobody’s asking you to do it.”

“Oh my god, Guanlin. Just because no one is asking for it doesn’t mean you should let it slide. We’re all friends, all of us. We should be making good memories together, especially since this is our last time together.”

“We’re going to Niseko after this, remember? Snowboarding, skiing, we’re going to be hanging out all the time. We have plenty of time.”

“It’s not just what’s next. After we graduate, we’re—well, I’m probably going back to Korea, and Daehwi and Sammie are staying in L.A., and Jinyoung and me are going to be in Seoul, which is just great, because Jinyoung hates me—“

“Jinyoung doesn’t hate you...”

“And you! You traitor, you’re going back to Taiwan.“

“My Korean’s not good enough to work in Seoul,” Guanlin said.

“And I keep telling you that it’s good enough.”

“My dad wants me to come back and run the business with him. You know I have to.”

“I know!” Seonho laughed. “And here we are. So why did you have to make me like you so much if you were just going to go back to Taiwan after all this was over? And now we’re like this—“

“What do you mean, we’re like this?”

There was a tap on Dongho’s shoulder. He turned around. Daehwi held a finger to his lips and gestured at Dongho to go. They walked around the deck and found themselves back in the library where some of the girls were playing pool. Daehwi plunked down on the couch and sighed.

“I’m not normally that nosy,” Dongho said. He felt like he needed to clear the air. “Just, I wasn’t sure when to interrupt them.”

Daehwi batted his concerns away. “There’s never a good moment with them. That sort of thing happens, like, every other day.”

“Really?”

“Seonho’s lovely.” Daehwi ran his hands through his hair and puffed out his cheeks. “But he’s kind of needy. And Guanlin, Guanlin is like Hodor to Seonho’s Bran. Carries him around everywhere. Emotionally, at least.”

“How’d they become friends?”

“Guanlin was a total loner before Seonho found him. His English is pretty rough, but his Korean is really passable. Turns out he grew up on K-dramas. Seonho found him at a party hanging out in a corner, alone. Diamond in the rough.” Daehwi shook his head. “It’s going to be hard for Seonho when Guanlin moves back to Taiwan.”

“I see.” When he was in high school, Dongho had been the one who’d found it hard to make friends. Back then, Minki made friends easily with his outgoing personality and his ability to talk about anything under the sun. And Minki had welcomed him into his circle. Here they were now. Thankfully not as co-dependent as Guanlin and Seonho, and thankfully without the will-we-won’t-we tension.

It would be hard to imagine life without Minki.

“Anyway.” Daehwi took a breath. “I’m done with these guys. Until tomorrow, at least. You overheard that we’re going skiing after this trip. I have to ration my portion of crazy.”

“From sun to snow,” Dongho said. “You’ll get some great photos.”

“Sure,” Daehwi said darkly. “What an Insta-perfect life I’m living.”

“Hey,” Dongho shook his head. “Seonho’s just trying his best to give you guys good memories.”

“I know, I know. I’m a dick sometimes, too. I’m nosy and intrusive and I try too hard in my own way to be cool.” Daehwi dunk into his crossed arms for a beat before turning to Dongho. “So, all that said and done, do you wanna grab dinner tonight?” This was punctuated by a sly glance and a sidelong smile that held just enough uncertainty in it to make Dongho’s heart flutter.

“W-what? With just me?”

Daehwi’s face fell. Dongho scrambled for the right words as his head spun. “It’s just that I don’t want to leave Minki behind. ‘Cuz I already left him for the whole day.”

Daehwi’s face pinched as he considered this. “Same with Sammie,” he sighed. “Okay, how about the four of us?”

“Sounds good,” Dongho said.

His head was still spinning and his skin still flushed by the time they got back on the ship. Dongho wasn’t sure if it was the sun, the sunburn, or the invitation to dinner that did it.

 

  


 


	4. Day Four

 

_Plunk._

Dongho set down his duffel and his beach towel and the umbrella and day chaise he’d rented from the stand. After some minutes fiddling with the umbrella set up he finally was able to get it stuck in the sand such that it wasn’t about to tip over. The water at the private beach was clearer here than he’d ever seen it anywhere in his life. With a slight breeze stirring his hair and his shorts and the distant smell of hot dogs on a grill and the potential of beautiful, warm water on his skin, everything about this place screamed _heaven._

But if this was heaven, why did he feel like crap?

Dongho rubbed at his stomach. Last night’s drinking might have had to do with it. Actually, the drinking every night and every day might have had to do with it. He didn’t like to admit it, but his liver just wasn’t as good as it used to be. And his defenses were compromised in other ways.

Cue flashback: Lee Daehwi’s hand in his, face inching closer to his, bass from the club rumbling beneath their feet as they stood on deck, looking over the wine-dark sea, sailing in the middle of the night to some unknown destination...

Dongho shook it off. It wasn’t an unknown destination. They were here. _He_  was here. On a beach on the coast of Phuket, free of any obligations to anybody for the next 12 hours. Dongho stripped off his t-shirt and popped open the bottle of sunscreen, squirting a generous amount on his hand. He got done with the front of his body before he realized he would have a hard time reaching the middle of his back.

 _Need help with that?_ Daehwi’s voice came unbidden to his mind. Of course.

Dongho wrenched himself around the best he could to reach that one spot on his back. Curse his limited shoulder mobility and muscle mass. He bet Lee Daehwi had no trouble twisting his long arms around his own back to get sunscreen everywhere.

Oh god. He really had it bad, didn’t he?

A swim. A swim was what he needed. It was with relief that Dongho jogged down to the water. The water was cool, but not so cool that it made him shiver. It wasn’t hard to just focus on the feeling of water on his skin. The way it held him up, the way it tasted just like—

— _can you just kiss me already?—_

Heaven.  


#  


“You wouldn’t know it, but I used to get into a lot of trouble in high school. And this guy right over here—“ Minki forked a thumb at Dongho, who was in the middle of his third mojito— “all he’d have to do was scowl, and my bullies would go running.”

“Like a white knight,” Samuel gaped, then shot a wink in Daehwi’s direction. Daehwi rolled his eyes.

Dongho pretended not to notice. “I swear—Minki would go looking for trouble just so he could see how mad I’d get.”

“I had to,” Minki whined. “Otherwise you’d never hang out with me.”

“A little bit co-dependent,” Samuel commented. “I sense the OG Seonho and Guanlin here.”

Minki and Dongho _oohed_ in mock affront at the same time. “Are you kidding?” Minki shivered. “As if this brute were even my type.” “Aw man,” Dongho said easily. “And here I thought all this time you were just playing the long game with me.”

“Dongho and I are just pals,” Minki said assuredly. “The kind of pals who are so like family that we can’t even bear to look at each other’s penises.”

There was a beat of silence. Dongho certainly wasn’t going to laugh first. What? It was true. He couldn’t bear to look at Minki’s pink floppy dolphin. It reminded him of... well, a pink and floppy dolphin.

“Actually,” Samuel said. “That was going to be the basis of my next question. Not for me, but for Daehwi.”

“Shut up, Sammie,” Daehwi said.

Samuel’s grin was wicked. “You think he’s sassy and bold, right? But the real Daehwi is super shy when it comes to the primordial facets of life.”

Daehwi pulled a napkin over his face. “Seriously, Sammie, I’m going to punch you in the kingmaker.”

“You’re not allowed to call it that anymore,” Samuel said. “That’s Somi’s nickname for it now.”

“Only the Punch King machine can make kings,” Minki jumped in. “And just in case you forgot, Dongho is the king here.”

“Damn right,” Dongho murmured.

Minki turned around, batting his eyelashes. “And what does the king want to do?”

“The king thinks that the proceedings are getting heated,” Dongho said, surprised at how easily grandiose pronouncements came to him when he was just slightly tipsy. He even sounded smart to himself. “I suggest that we adjourn dinner and retire to our rooms.” And with much ado and groaning they finally extricated themselves from their seats (all stuffed from a dinner of steak and seared scallops and too much panna cotta) and headed upstairs.

Well, sort of. Dongho found himself walking at a slower pace than Minki and Sammie, who had somehow become friends over the course of the day while the rest of them had been out on the stingray excursion. He found himself falling back to be step-in-step with Daehwi, who was also walking slowly and holding himself gingerly, as if he were going to fall apart.

“You okay there?” Dongho tried not to laugh.

“That was way too much food,” Daehwi moaned. “I can’t go to sleep now. I’ll gain all this weight if I don’t do something.”

“Me neither,” Dongho said, patting the top of his stomach. “Makes me think of my mom.”

“Oh?”

“I mean, she fed us a lot. Wouldn’t let me leave a grain of rice untouched. Said her parents had worked too hard to make a good life for us for me to not eat my fill.”

“Classic Korean mother,” Daehwi sighed.

“But then would make us take walks with her around the block to work it off. I used to hate it as a kid because all I wanted to do was watch cartoons after dinner, but she’d make us walk the neighborhood loop until we were properly tired.”

“Sounds like a taskmaster.”

“Yeah, she really kept us all on track.” And Dongho cut himself off before he could go any further.

The silence lingered between them as they found themselves at the juncture of the ship where they’d have to part ways, one to elevator

“Hey, Dongho—” Daehwi’s voice was soft, a little bit nervous. “Want to explore the ship for a bit?”  


#  


The water felt really nice. Nice and cool. The kind of water you felt like it was the first time you were swimming.

Not that he remembered the first time play for play, but he did remember one of the times. His mother had been in the pool with him. The following week, his father took him. Dongho didn’t want to let go of the ledge. He was only five, for God’s sake. If he let go of the ledge, he would drown.

While all the other kids were floating away and swimming happily with their moms Dongho was there with his dad refusing to budge. Come on, his dad told him. It’s okay. It’s fine.

It was weird to hear that coming from his dad who was so taciturn in every other way. To hear him say something gentle, to be nice, it made Dongho feel even less at ease. Like if he did anything, the tension would break and his dad and he would get sucked down a big whirlpool where neither of them could breathe. Didn’t his dad know he was tempting fate?

He wanted to swim out further. The burn in his muscles felt good, especially after all those days of drinking. With every stroke it felt like he was exorcising all the bad stuff. Working toward something better.

There was a small landing out in the middle of the bay. A middle of nowhere kind of place to sit. Dongho held his breath and ducked under the water again.  


#  


A friendly squeeze, and then nothing.

Just a friendly squeeze.

Daehwi let go of his hand as they rounded the corner and the corridor opened up into an atrium. Dongho and Daehwi wormed their way through the slot machines and the zonked out players, through the pinball noise of jangling coins and whirling machine jingles and eventually found themselves on the deck on the rear of the ship. It was strangely calm even with the blast of the engines droning in the background—perhaps because the white noise of the surf washed over everything else like a salve.

They both hunched folded their arms over the railing and stared out at the water behind them, which trailed in the wake of the ship in a series of white, V-shaped crests. Dongho was keenly aware of Daehwi next to him. Daehwi, who asked him to explore. Daehwi had made most of the chatter on their way around the deck and all Dongho could do was answer questions when asked. There was something sensitive and delicate about the situation. He was afraid to say anything for fear of breaking the spell. The way Daehwi looked at him, snuck glances at him, made Dongho feel hot inside.

“So, what made you come on this trip?” Daehwi asked, raising his voice over the sound of the engine. “For real.”

Somehow the combination of the engine roar and the balmy wind whipping his face made Dongho feel like whatever he said would get lost. Like he could be honest without being remembered.

“He’s been sick.” Dongho realized he couldn’t look Daehwi in the face as he talked about his father. “He’s actually been sick for a long time. And every time he’s fought it and come back, but this time—” Dongho gnashed his teeth. “This time I don’t think he’s coming back.”

“I’m sorry,” Daehwi said. He really did sound sorry. In the sudden fit of grief that seized his heart, Dongho remembered that Daehwi had lost his dad a long time ago. That he must know what it meant, in a much more intense way that Dongho ever could feel, to lose a father. Daehwi knew what that absence of a father was. It would have shaped his entire personality.

“Well,” Dongho took a breath. His heart beat in rhythm with the juttering percussion of the ship engine. “I’m sure you had it worse than me.”

“Hah,” said Daehwi. His voice was watery. Dongho didn’t want him to cry but at the same time he felt like if Daehwi did cry then he would know exactly what to do.“It’s not really the same,” Daehwi whispered. “Yeah, sure, you’ve known your dad all your life. But in a way that’s more realistic. You know a much more real version of him than I ever did with my dad. All I have are my mom’s old stories and photo albums. I have to fill in the blanks with everything else. And I know I have an overactive imagination. There’s a not unreasonable chance that I might be overembellishing how awesome my dad would have been if he were still around.“

“Sometimes it’s easy to idolize a dad even if he’s still around.” Dongho rubbed his face.

They were quiet for a while.

“What hospital is he in?”

“J hospital. It’s far away,” and Dongho found himself getting defensive for absolutely no reason, but there he was again.

“I—well, my family—know some specialists at T General.”

Dongho squinted. “The one that’s always on the dramas?”

Daehwi’s mouth twisted in a parody of a smile. “That’s the one.”

“Thanks,” Dongho bristled. “But J Hospital is fine. It’s far away but it’s what we can afford.”

“It’s just a referral. The oncologist at T General is a close family friend.“

“Hey,” Dongho said. “It’s fine. I said it’s fine.”

From the look on Daehwi’s face Dongho knew he’d put him out. Said the wrong thing. Daehwi held his silence for a good while and all there was was the sound of the ship engine humming away and the swish of water as they cut a path through the night. Then Daehwi opened his mouth again.

“If I could go back in time,” Daehwi said, “I’d do everything in my power to help my dad.”

“I’m sorry,” Dongho said. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Daehwi or himself.

“No need to apologize,” Daehwi said. He was biting his lip now, looking somewhere between cross and fond. “But you’re kind of closed off, did you know that?”

“Maybe,” Dongho said.

“Closed off — but easy to read.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Daehwi said. “And predictable.”

Dongho felt himself getting chilly out here. By the looks of it, Daehwi was too. But the kid had a stubborn look in his eyes. And Dongho wanted to, he wanted to do something, the way Daehwi wanted him to. But the conversation had gone south and with it, his buzz and the mood. In the cracks of the pleasantly drunken fuzzy haze the memory of his mother, telling Dongho that his father would be out of the hospital any day now. That the idiot was just faking. That if he was just going to die like that he might as well have done it already.

“Dongho? Are you cryi—shit—”  


#  


_Shit_.

He’d swum out too far. The ocean was one deep blue undulation after another. The shore was a sliver of gold in the distance. And his muscles were completely strung out.

And the rock he’d been swimming for wasn’t a rock at all.

It was a mountain of sea urchins. Stacked on top of a rock. Deadly miniature spiky assholes all lumped on top of one another, their spines waving ever so slightly. Dongho scanned the rock for an empty spot to grab onto. But there was nothing. Shit. Well, this was stupid. He was going to die out here. Cramped legs and all.

On the other side, there was a small hold the width of his hand. Great. Great, that was all he needed. Just a sliver of rock to anchor onto while he got his bearings and—

“Fuck!”

Of course the fucking mountain of urchins went all the way down. Dongho tried to bite down his scream as every nerve in his body lit up with pain. He’d stepped on one and now there was a spine embedded deep in his heel. Like the idiot he was. Only he would have wandered into a minefield of sea urchins and not swum in the exact opposite direction.

The current nudged the spine back and forth and the pain shot back up his leg. Fuck.

The shore was so far away. _Fuck_.

  
#  


“I’m sorry,” Daehwi said. He fluttered nervously at the edge of Dongho’s blurred vision. “I’m such an ass.”

“Yeah, you kind of are.” And even though his nose was stuffed up Dongho could feel a watery smile spread over his face. Threatening to turn into a watery laugh.

“What?”

“You said it. So now I don’t have to.”

Daehwi glared, but sucked it back in until his face was all petulance. “And you’re not predictable at all. I totally didn’t see this happening.”

“What did you think was going to happen?” The sudden emotion that had gripped Dongho was slowly starting to melt into something else. He wiped away the tear on his cheek, turning his head away so Daehwi wouldn’t see him do it.

“I don’t know, maybe that you’d get mad at me, and then we’d have some kind of heated stare-off, and then, I don’t know, I haven’t thought that far!”

“My dad’s in the hospital and you want to—” Dongho could barely contain his giggles at the absurdity.

“Yeah. Okay,” Daehwi buried his face in his hands. “I’m normally a lot cooler than this. And I have more tact. And am more polite. But, uh, if I’m rude, it’s only because you are. Cute. And rude. And when I look at you I’m not even sure how to talk. And what kind of conversation is this, anyway?”

“You tell me. You’re the one who made me start telling you about what I’m going through.”

It might have been the gruffness in Dongho’s voice that made Daehwi shrink like a school kid who’d just been caught eating candy — or checking his mobile phone — in class. Equal shades guilty and pleased.

“So why’d you tell me about you, if you were just gonna complain about it later?”

“Nuh uh,” Dongho shook his head. “I asked you a question first.”

“I think I’m trying to get closer to you,” Daehwi said.

Dongho huffed, feeling terribly warm. He cleared his throat. “Weird. And selfish. But really cute.”

“I’m an only child,” Daehwi said, as if that explained everything. Which it kind of did.

“So that’s why you’re a brat.”

“What are you gonna do about it?”

Dongho turned to see Daehwi glaring at him, face inching closer to his. He was distantly aware of some rumble under his feet. He thought it was because his body was *this* close to levitating but on second thought it was just the bass from the club beneath the deck. Daehwi’s face shone pearlescent in the moonlight against the wine-dark sea.

Daehwi slipped his hand into Dongho’s. “Can you just kiss me already?”

Dongho blinked. Daehwi’s breath ghosted over his lips. And it felt like—  


#  


_Heaven_.

His eyes were stinging from the water and airways burning from inhaling too much of the sea. He had swum to the shore but the waves had been pushing him back. Now he was floating, trying to catch his breath, feeling the waves push him out, undoing his progress.

He’d just rest another twenty seconds. Let the burn from his arms subside a little. Then he’d try again.

If God would just grant him the strength and perseverance to make it to the shore he promised he would give up drinking. He’d go visit his dad in the hospital. He’d take his mom out shopping. He’d be a better friend to Minki and help him actually find love. He’d find Minhyun wherever he was in the world and take back all that stuff he said about Jonghyun. He’d go to church every Sunday. He’d go back to school and finish his degree. He’d listen more instead of cracking jokes or tuning out when things got awkward. Promise, promise, promise.

The water lapped at his sides. Dongho prayed for a giant stingray to emerge from the navy depths and spirit him away on its back. But if he couldn’t make it back onto shore—he wanted to go to heaven. Pearly gates and all of that. But it’d been a long time since he went to church. Too long.

The waves grew choppier. And his wishful ears were ringing with the drone of the ship engine.  


#  


“What?” Dongho was barely able to keep from reeling back completely, but only because some part of him really, _really_ wanted to stay and another part of him realized it would be terribly rude and he would end up hurting Daehwi.

But he couldn’t just—

Not when—

Daehwi blinked. “Unless I’ve got this completely wrong, which I don’t usually, I’m pretty sure you like me. Am I right?”

“Yep.” Dongho swallowed.

“And you’ve been flirting with me because you like me. Right?”

“I don’t know if that’s—“

“It’s a yes or no question.” Daehwi squeezed his hand, not without some warning.

“You condescending brat,” Dongho said, his hand on Daehwi’s chin before he could stop himself. “Now shut up.”

“You’re the idi—,” Daehwi managed, before Dongho’s lips on his cut him off.  


#  


“You _idiot_. Who swims out into the middle of nowhere without thinking?”

“...My problem was that I _was_ thinking. Too much.”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you to pay attention when you’re crossing the road? Or when you decide to swim out into the open ocean?”

Daehwi’s face was livid red. It’d been somewhere between ghostly pale and volcanic since he’d pulled up alongside Dongho in a speedboat with a driver and tossed him a lifesaver. Literally. Dongho had never been so grateful to see an industrial-grade pool toy in his whole life. Or Lee Daehwi, for that matter. Sunglasses perched on his head, hair one big blond tousle, worry vibrating off his skin.

“You idiot,” Daehwi repeated, glaring at Dongho’s bedspread. He’d been smoothing out the same wrinkle in the sheets for the last fifteen minutes now. If he continued he might wear a hole through the infirmary bed itself. “If Minki and I hadn’t come to the beach—“

“I’d probably have drowned.” Dongho sighed. “So thank you.”

“Thank Minki,” Daehwi scoffed. “He was the one who let on where you were.”

“Why’d you come, anyway?” Dongho’s foot itched underneath the bandages. It was maddening to not be able to scratch it. “You guys were supposed to be at the market.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Daehwi’s expression was dark. “You know how I feel about you, you lunkhead. And I thought I freaked you out last night.”

“I shouldn’t have just left like that.” Dongho sighed. “It was me. I had a lot going on in my head and you were so...”

“So persistent?” Daehwi rolled his eyes. “Bratty? Annoying? Hot?”

Dongho groaned and grinned at the same time. “Okay, all three. Can you blame me for Not knowing what to do?“

“You do what you’re supposed to do when you like someone,” Daehwi scowled, ears turning red. “And now you’re here, and doped up on painkillers, and you can’t walk, so I guess any funny business we *were* going to get up to is on infinite hiatus.”

“About that,” Dongho said. “I’m not—I’m not a one night kind of guy.”

Daehwi bristled. “And what makes you think I am?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Dongho said quickly. “That’s not what I’m saying. It’s more about how we could continue this.”

“I’m going to be in Seoul,” Daehwi said just as quickly. “I’m moving back home after graduating.“

“But it’s not just that.” Dongho shook his head. “I’m, uh, not really the right kind of person for you.”

“What, because you’re dense?” Daehwi pouted. “Good thing for you I care more about looks.”

“No, it’s more...” Dongho sighed. It hurt to be called dense, but this wasn’t about that. Daehwi was in attack mode again because he was scared. Dongho wouldn’t react. Would be patient. That much he had promised to himself earlier today.

“I’m not in the right place. I’m going through a lot of stuff right now. And you’re—you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t have much,” Dongho said. “I’m not going to be able to keep up with you. The last few days has been fun, really fun, but the me you see here isn’t the real me.“

“And you think this is the real me? You think this is my life? Partying, nonstop drinking?” Daehwi laughed. “This is _not_ how I’d choose to spend my time. I’m just here because Seonho dragged us along.”

“Don’t say that,” Dongho said gently. “If it weren’t for Seonho and Minki, we wouldn’t have met.”

Daehwi was silent. Nursing his hurt. Dongho could see it in the way he withdrew, the way the light in his eyes turned inward. “I like you,” Daehwisaid. His voice quivered, and Dongho’s heart along with it. “I don’t see why that’s such a problem.”

“It’s not a problem.” Dongho reached out and covered Daehwi’s hand with his own. “We’re just from different places. And after tomorrow, we’ll be going back home.”

Daehwi lifted his head. Dongho’s breath caught at the fire in his eyes, suddenly back. “You think I don’t know what you’re saying. I do. I think you’re good enough for me. And it’s not just your looks. I’m shallow, but I’m not *that* shallow. I think there’s something I can learn from you. We don’t need to be so old school about this. If you end it here, you’re going to be denying me—and yourself—something big.”

What gave Daehwi the confidence to say something like that? Dongho leaned back. “And what am I denying?”

A small smile crossed Daehwi’s face. “Let me ask you instead—why do you like me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Pretty sure you know. Here. Let’s try something.” Daehwi leaned forward and put his hand on Dongho’s forehead, like he was taking temperature. He pushed until Dongho was laying back on his pillow, and then his hand came over Dongho’s eyes. “Don’t think. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Daehwi—“

“Just relax. What have you got to lose? After tomorrow, I’m outta here, just like you. You’ll never have to see me again if you don’t want to. So just relax.”

Dongho closed his eyes and tried to relax. What was this hypnotic effect that Daehwi’s voice had on him? “I like the way you look. The way you look at me. The way you make me feel.”

“Yeah? How do I make you feel?”

“I feel like I can relax and let you do all the hard work.” Dongho grinned, thinking of the way Daehwi had commandeered the stingray excursion.

“We already know I’m bossy.” A light pressure on his eyes. Just a light, friendly pressure. “Anything else?”

It was a while before Dongho spoke again. “You make me feel warm. Like I mean something.”

“You do mean something,” Daehwi whispered. His voice was close, closer than Dongho had expected. “You mean something to me.”

“What do I mean to you?”

“You make me feel seen. And safe.”

Dongho swallowed. “Why me?”

“Who knows?” Daehwi said. “It’s not for me to decide.”

“You make it sound like fate,” Dongho said. His voice felt weaker than he wanted it to be. He felt like every choice he made had been to bring him to this very infirmary bed with a bandage around his foot and Daehwi’s cool hand over his face. “I don’t believe in that stuff.”

“Me neither,” Daehwi said, trailing off. “You can open your eyes now.”

They looked at each other for a while. Daehwi stroking the side of Dongho’s face, fingertips rasping against his stubble, ghosting lightly over his bottom lip. The look on Daehwi’s face was open, flushed, wondering. Dongho knew he looked the same way.

Dongho took a breath. “And it’s not just the way you make me feel. You’re smart. And you’re quick. And you’re talented. You could be with anyone you want to be. So I can’t believe that someone like you would think I’m special. I’m not much. I’m just some guy.”

Daehwi nudged an arm under Dongho’s pillow and pressed his nose into Dongho’s cheek. “Stop saying that,” Daehwi said. “Or else you really will be an idiot.”

Something raw in Daehwi’s voice shifted the mood in the room. Dongho felt electricity jolt through his spine like lightning just struck him. He turned into the embrace and slid a hand up Daehwi’s neck into his hair, tugging lightly. “ _You’re_ the one who keeps calling me an idiot.”

Daehwi’s breath hitched and his eyes flickered down to Dongho’s lips. Up this close, Dongho could see how wide his pupils were blown. “Is it too late to take it back?” Daehwi’s voice changed. Something pliant, sweet, and lilting had taken the place of the acidity, the sharpness, the bite.

Something that made Dongho’s head spin. But he wasn’t about to let it show.

“You have one last chance to get it right.”

Daehwi‘s voice was a hum of content. “Pretty sure I know the answer. I‘m a straight-A student, you know.”

“I don’t have all day,” Dongho said, tightening his grip in Daehwi’s hair and tilting his head back just ever so slightly. Just enough to see the way Daehwi’s neck arced back like supple marble. Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Daehwi hissed happily. “How about I call you...” He leaned in and whispered something in Dongho’s ear.  


#  


“And so ends the tour of the captain’s deck,” the ship attendant smiled cheerily at the group before him.

“Thank you very much for the tour,” Samuel said. He’d been live-streaming it to Somi the whole time. She chirped “thank you” from the phone speakers.

“My pleasure,” said the attendant. “Are there any other questions?”

“What’s this do?” Seonho hovered his finger above a red button. Minki perched behind Seonho, leaning his weight on Seonho as he peeped over his shoulder.

“Oh, that kicks off the fireworks celebration that we do at the end of the last day of every cruise,” said the attendant. Minki’s eyes lit up.

Guanlin looked panicked. “Seonho, watch out for—”  


#

  
Back onshore, a flock of seagulls took off for the skies, as if startled by some distant blast.  
  


 

 


	5. Day Five

 

 

  
It was December in Singapore. It felt like it should be a lot colder than this, but it was humid and warm and the air was slightly stuffy. He and Minki had arrived at the hostel not too long ago. Before they could get properly settled into their room, the phone in their room rang—they had visitors, and one of them was named Yoo Seonho, and the crowd that was waiting for them was very loud and could they please come downstairs right away to settle them down? 

Dongho would have welcomed a bit of the Seoul winter. Lee Daehwi was there with the rest of the group, looking every bit just as put out as he did when they'd parted ways at the dock. Fine, said Daehwi. See you again maybe never, said Daehwi. Dongho hadn't had the heart to reply because well, he didn't really believe that their paths would cross again. But apparently Yoo Seonho had other plans. 

"We couldn't just leave the hyungs like that," he said, big, puppyish eyes blinking away crocodile (okay, maybe real) tears after he'd finished squeezing the life out of Dongho (it was a hug). "It didn't feel right." 

"Yeah," Samuel said. "I mean, we're all in Singapore for one more night—why not hang out?" 

Even Bae Jinyoung looked somewhat happy at the prospect of spending time together, if only for the fact that he wasn't off in skulking in the shadows or lounging on a couch in the corner of the room.

"Hey," said Lee Daehwi.

"Hey," Dongho replied, trying not to meet Daehwi's eyes for fear of what might happen if he did.  

"Let's go," Guanlin boomed, one arm slung around Seonho and the other looping its way around Dongho's neck. 

There was a pool table on the floor above the lobby and so there they went. Samuel ordered drinks for everyone and with a bit of alcohol in him, Dongho busied himself in chalking his cue—and mustered the courage to finally look at Daehwi from the corner of his eye. 

Daehwi was sitting on a bench in the corner, waiting his turn at the billiards table. Arrogant tilt of the chin as he watched the other boys play. Appraising turn of lips framed by a slim jaw, pale column of neck descending into a filmy white shirt tucked into pale salmon linen shorts in appealing creases right where leg met hip—boat shoes a powder blue suede and probably some rabidly expensive designer brand, ankles tensing as he stood up for his turn—Dongho swallowed.  

He should have just kissed him, Dongho thought. Should have just kissed him in the taxi line like they'd both wanted him to. 

"Be right back!" Minki said, and dragged Dongho out of his thoughts—and out of the billiards room. Back up to their room. Where he started packing. 

"What are you doing?" 

Minki hummed. "Packing."

"Why? Is our flight actually tonight?" Dongho panicked at the idea. _But Lee Daehwi just got here—_

Minki laughed. "No, we're not leaving tonight. But tell me, friend—why do I feel like I’m always the third wheel?”

Dongho knew what was happening and a part of him wanted to protest and the other part—well. “You’re not the third wheel,” he said weakly. 

“Then why am I getting kicked out of my own room?”

“You’re—wait, what? Who's kicking you out of the room?”

Minki laughed to himself. “I kid. Samuel invited me to their suite at the W. So you're going to have the room upstairs all to yourself." Minki punctuated the all in all to yourself with an elongated quirk of the brow. 

"But we've barely spent any time together this trip," Dongho protested. 

"And whose fault is that, Mr. I'm-Going-to-Go-Swimming-by-Myself-and-Maybe-Almost-Drown-and-then-Spend-My-Last-Night-in-the-Hospital-When-I'm-Not-Busy-Gambling-the-Night-Away-with-Some-College-Kids-I-Just-Met-Four-Days-Ago?" And he winked at Dongho in a way that made his ears feel like they were so hot they were going to singe off his head. There was nothing Dongho could do but look contrite and burn with steady embarrassment. 

“Minki, wait—"

“I’ll be here in the morning. Don’t leave anything behind,” Minki said. “You’re always leaving something or another.”

“I am?” Dongho said, because he was too dazed to say anything else.

“Yeah,” Minki said. ”You might be leaving your heart behind this time.“

Dongho groaned. “C’mon, man—“

“It’s okay,” Minki said gently. “It’s okay to leave your heart a little bit all over, everywhere. That’s why love makes the world go around. It's the momentum from all the lost hearts trying to find their way back to their owners."

He mulled over this as Minki shut the door behind him. He kept mulling over it until there was a knock on the door. Shy, hesitant, a little bit imperious. 

Dongho opened the door.

“Hey,” said Lee Daehwi.  
   
 

 

 


	6. Epilogue

 

 

“Just hold on, won’t you?!” Dongho yelled over the sound of the doorbell. The doorbell quieted for a moment before a barrage of knocks shook his apartment. Damn it, at this rate Minki was going to break down his door.

“You _have_ a key, you know.” Dongho threw open the door. Minki smiled an angelic smile at him through his layers of eyeliner and mascara.

“I’m supposed to be the diva, not you.” Minki shut the door behind him.

“Thought you’d wait to put on your face at the venue,” Dongho muttered, throwing a hoodie on over his suspenders.

“It gets so crowded backstage,” Minki huffed. “Especially now that it’s summer. You want five drag queens sweating on each other right up until we go live? No way. Until I get my own dressing room, I’m doing my makeup in the sanctity of my own apartment, thank you very much. Plus, you’re not one to talk.” Minki gave him elevator eyes.

“I don’t like getting dressed in front of other people,” Dongho muttered, pulling up a pair of loose sweatpants over his leather shorts.

“Your six pack is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Sure,” Dongho said gruffly, grabbing his keys. “Okay, let’s go. Sorry for making us late.”

“Don’t forget your name tag,” Minki sing-songed. “And I’m going to use the toilet before we go, so just hold on a hot minute.”

As Minki darted behind him, Dongho picked up his name tag off the kitchen counter. He usually pinned it to his t-shirt, but since the weekend brought in the best tips and the best tippers, he’d be stupid not to go shirtless. All the dancers had name tags—it wasn’t like that at every club, but Madame Cheetah wanted everyone to feel like they were a real performer—part of the family.

He felt its edges — still so sharp that if he pressed hard enough, he might actually cut himself. Dongho had opted for a piece of matte black metal with “Bandit” emblazoned dead center in steel. It’d been the only stage name he could think of when he joined the dance team at Velvet Underground.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Dongho’s ears burned at the memory. There was the nickname one very singular Lee Daehwi had given him the last day of that cruise trip some six months ago. He bit his lip as he remembered how Daehwi had said it. Whispered it. Keened it.

Yeah, some things were better kept private. So “Bandit” it was.

“We gotta get a cab at this rate!” Dongho yelled. Inside his apartment, the toilet flushed. Minki emerged, straightening his wig and holding onto one of falsies onto his eye. The glue was still fresh.

“Don’t rush a lady’s business,” Minki sniffed.

They managed to hail a taxi right outside Dongho’s apartment complex and were on the road in minutes. As they merged onto the highway, Minki’s phone rang.

“Ooh, I have to take this one.”

Dongho peered over at Minki’s phone. “*Kim Jonghyun*” flashed in bright white letters, accompanied by a corporate profile photo of him wearing a plain black suit and a bowl cut. Nerd. “What does that jerk want now?”

“Quiet, you. He’s actually very nice and he’s helping me out with the new venue—hello, _Jonghyun-ah_.” Minki’s voice turned cute and sultry. That _Miss Velvet_  persona on full display. “No, you’re not interrupting anything.” Dongho kicked him lightly on the shins. “Yep, now is still a good time. Tell me, tell me—how’s it going with the approvals?”

Dongho fiddled with his phone while Minki chatted with Jonghyun. Sure, Dongho had just started classes at night school, but it didn’t mean he wanted to listen to stuff about accounting if he didn’t have to. He pulled up Minhyun’s number and flipped through the last few messages. It was mostly one-sided—just Minhyun sending him pictures every now and then from his new digs. Cold-looking mountains and beautiful-looking lakes and cute-looking houses with sharply-steepled roofs. In his selfies, Minhyun looked calm—happy, even.

Minki squealed in delight and slapped Dongho on the shoulder. *What??* he mouthed, but Minki was too busy flailing. Dongho cast a worried look at the cab driver and prayed that he wouldn’t pull over and ask them to politely get the fuck out of his car.

Minki hung up and turned to Dongho with the look of a puppy at feeding time. Dongho raised an eyebrow.

“Jonghyun’s bringing his client to the club tonight,” Minki squealed.

The thought of that jerk coming to Velvet Underground and seeing Dongho in his leather hotpants made him want to throw up, but something in Minki’s voice told Dongho it wasn’t the end of the story. “And?”

“And guess who his client is.”

“The CEO of Samsung? Don’t know, don’t care,” Dongho rolled his eyes.

“Close but no cigar,” Minki leaned in and grinned up at Dongho. “And you _will_  care. Because it’s our favorite brat in the whole world.”

It took him a moment, but when he realized who it was, Dongho felt like he’d just been dropped from the top of a rollercoaster.

_Lee Daehwi._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH thank you all for reading. This universe is sprawling in my head and this is only the first of three main stories. There's more in this series yet to come. ;) 
> 
> Thank you for reading and for supporting BAEKHWI with me! May the remainder of this year bring even more cute moments! If you know of any more moments... link me in the comments. I am not very good at Twitter so I need y'all to keep me up to date on the latest and greatest. 
> 
> (if you are on Twitter, come say hi—I am @_radishface)

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/_radishface) :)


End file.
